A Reflection

My grandma's memorial service was nearly two weeks ago. I haven't felt much like writing about it, but I do want to share some images.

My mom made a beautiful slideshow to give an overview of my grandma's life. I'll just share a couple slides.

Me and Grandma (the dates of the two pictures on the right should be 2006 for the wedding and likely sometime in the mid-90's for the picture below it, but those are truly minor details):

This next slide features one of my favorite pictures. The picture on the right of my grandparents, my brother, Steve and me was taken outside the Green Street Restaurant in Pasadena after lunch. I don't remember the exact exchange, but while my dad was pulling the car around, my mom was attempting to get a decent picture of us. She wasn't getting the smiles she wanted, so I recall some kind of humorous threat being levied, resulting in this picture:

It makes me smile every time I look at it.

Since everybody was dressed up for the memorial, my mom wanted to do some pictures at my grandparents' house. It chokes me up to think that these are the last pictures of me and my family in that house (as it will be sold soon).

Steve and me in the dining room:

Steve sits oh-so-daintily on my lap:

My immediate family (introducing for the first time on this blog, my brother's girlfriend Brooke, who shopped for and arranged all of the beautiful flowers for the memorial service):

Brooke and Jim pose with me and Steve:

I mention with frustration that I never know what to do with my hands in pictures. Brooke says to put one up and one down. I say, "like this?"

I'll take the laughter as a "no, not like that." I'm such a dork.

I've been trying to keep my mind on positive memories. I picture my grandma's dramatic rolled eyes when someone let one of the screen doors slam. I remember her specific tone of amusement coupled with exasperation when my father made a bad joke or gave a nonsense answer to one of her questions. I remember how delighted she was when I showed up unannounced to surprise her on her birthday. I think of that certain teasing smile she'd get when she called Steve "ol' what's-his-name."

My grandparents' house was my second home. It has been very difficult to come to terms with the fact that I won't be going back there again. But without them, it's a shadow of its former self anyway.

One chapter ends and another begins. I spent just about every holiday in that house. But for Christmas this year, Steve and I will be hosting at our house. I spend a lot of time thinking about the traditions I want to preserve, those to let go, and new ones to introduce. We'll see how things go.